Ever been relieved to have a friend tell you your breath stinks?

One of the fundamental trombone pedagogical tools I've learned in the last few years is that no matter what wonderful things you think you're putting INTO your horn, it only matters if they come out the other end. Usually, this is said in the context of trying to get students to emote more.

The horn tends to "swallow" little creative touches you add to your performance, so much so that they don't actually make it out of the other end. Professors usually counter this by instructing the performer to exaggerate what you "think" you're doing, so that it will be obvious when it reaches the back of the room.

Tonight, I realized a similar thing can happen in my social life.

An aspect of my personality, which I had (in recent years) adopted as a wholly helpful and "good" trait, was called into question. It wasn't a direct attack, and it wasn't intended to have me second-guess my life, but it did show me that I wasn't fully aware of all the consequences.

In the past, I've been a pretty good manipulator of people. But in the last few years, I've been trying to exorcise that part of my personality. It's just no longer acceptable to me. So when a situation comes along where there's even a whiff of it, it immediately causes me to back off and examine my internal motives and my external presentation.

And that's what friends are good for. They're not trying to hurt you; they give you the chance to fix harmful things without the normal heavy consequences. Usually. In this case, I want to make sure that even though I'm trying to be there for friends, I need to make sure I'm not giving the appearance of too much detachment or clinical curiosity.

And yes, it is rather ironic that I chose to make a big clinical self-examination over whether or not I'm too analytical, but that's just how it works around here.

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